


wishing only wounds the heart

by chiarascura



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Inquisitor Bethany Hawke, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-05 22:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6725350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiarascura/pseuds/chiarascura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carver finds Garrett flirting with Felix. He's seen this before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have to thank rachel for giving me the idea for this story in the first place <3
> 
> also the title is from "I'm not that girl" from wicked the musical because that song embodies carver in this story

It’s an accident. Really, it is. Carver never meant to eavesdrop, and he knows a person can only hear the worst when they do. It’s like when he walked in on Garrett and Peaches in the barn, or Peaches and her friend giggling about it later, or Garrett and Merrill in the Hanged Man. This seemed to happen far too often, and it never ended well.  
  
Yet today, when he started up the steps to the outer wall and he heard Felix’s voice, he stopped in his tracks. Felix sounded soft, breathy, a little giggly. It made something in Carver’s belly twist, as he had never heard the man sound like that before.  
  
He only wondered for a moment what prompted it, as he heard Garrett’s low rumble answer and the feeling in his belly turned sour. He knew that tone, had heard it charm more people out of their smallclothes than he wanted to admit, including all of his previous eavesdropping failures and then some.  
  
“Hawke, really,” Felix said, sweet and light, like spun sugar melting in his mouth.  
  
“Please, call me Garrett.”  
  
Carver took a few steps up until he could see over the balustrade to where Garrett pinned Felix to the wall, one arm outstretched over the man’s shoulder and leaning down into his space. Felix’s face tilted up to meet Garrett’s gaze with a smirk and a soft gaze in his eyes. His hips canted outward, only a few inches from Garrett’s own, and his stance conveyed openness and interest. His cheeks were pink and his hands fidgeted at his sides, and Carver had seen enough to know where this was going.  
  
Carver fled down the steps back the way he came, unable to bear watching his brother seduce Felix, the new Grey Warden contact. The one person in Skyhold that Carver couldn’t stop thinking about with dirty fantasies in the war room or tender moments in the garden.  
  
It figures, he told himself as he stalked across the yard back to his office, taking the long way around. Carver never could have anything for himself, not in Lothering, not in Kirkwall, and now not even in Skyhold. When Seeker Pentaghast came to him and asked if he would be the Commander of the Inquisition, he thought, _maybe this once I can have this. I can escape his shadow and make a name for myself. Maybe I can have one thing that is good and mine own._  
  
Of course Garrett would appear and screw it all up. He slammed the door to his office and the loud _bang_ against the frame gave him a vicious thrill. Carver wanted to break things, to smash and destroy and crush these feelings inside him. He leaned his palms onto his desk and let his head drop between his shoulders, feeling the weight of his responsibilities and his wants upon his back, heavy like ill-fitting dwarven armor.  
  
After wallowing for just a few minutes, a soldier knocked on his door and Carver came back to reality. He lost himself in work for several hours, ignoring the dread in his stomach and focusing on the paperwork he loathed. It worked for a time, as he granted requisitions or wrote new orders to his Captains in the field. He didn’t want to half-ass his job for the Inquisition, and he couldn’t let his bloody brother distract him enough to compromise the safety of Thedas.  
  
Bethany appeared just after the dinner bell rang, her affectionate smile drawing Carver from his thoughts. “Hello, brother. Are you finished for the day?” She hardly even waited for an answer before dragging him to the great hall for dinner.  
  
They entered arm-in-arm, the Inquisitor and the Commander, and the noise level in the room increased a few notches. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but Carver so rarely left his office except to spar or to attend meetings that it always sparked new conversation for the recruits.  
  
Carver hadn’t even taken three steps in when he saw Garrett and Felix together at a table nearby. Felix practically sat in Garrett’s lap, feet undoubtedly tangled together beneath the bench, with one arm slung over his shoulder and the other holding a fork. Felix looked up at Garrett with _that_ expression, wide eyes and pink cheeks and soft grin, the one that made rage blossom inside Carver’s chest.  
  
 Carver’s shoulders stiffened and he stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t do this. No doubt Bethany would seek out Garrett to eat with, and even if he didn’t want to admit his growing feelings, he couldn’t spend the whole meal watching Garrett seduce yet another person Carver wanted. All the feelings from earlier that afternoon came rushing back.  
  
“Actually, Beth, I just remembered, uh. Something. I have to go do. I’ll… see you later.” Bethany’s hand tightened on his arm before he slipped away, and he ignored the feeling of her eyes on his back as he tried not to run back to his office.  
  
His office was empty when he returned, too quiet for him to ignore the intrusive thoughts. He slumped into his chair and shuffled his papers around, not actually getting any new work done but at least not around Garrett. His stomach grumbled a bit, but he knew he could sneak off to the kitchens later for a quick bite.  
  
When Bethany returned, and Carver knew she would, it was inevitable, she glared at him. “Carver Aristide Hawke, what are you avoiding?”  
  
Carver averted his eyes. “Nothing. What? Why would you say that?” He clenched his fists and rose from behind his desk. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”  
  
She stood silently for a moment before she crossed the room to block his way out from behind his desk, meeting his eyes despite his efforts to avoid her. “Is this about the lyrium?”  
  
That would certainly be a convenient excuse, and it wouldn’t be far off. The withdrawals made him cranky and exhausted, in physical pain more often than not, and Bethany gave him a wide berth on days when it peaked. He hesitated for a moment too long before answering and she narrowed her eyes.  
  
“What’s it about, Carver? Why did you fly out of the hall like that, right as we were about to eat? Are you mad at Garrett again?”  
  
Carver sidled past her with a sigh. “No, Bethy. It’s not always about _Garrett_.” _Bloody Garrett_ , he thought uncharitably. “It’s… nothing. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “Carver. Talk to me.” He leaned against the ladder and finally met her gaze. “What’s going on?”  
  
Carver shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “Nothing, I just saw Garrett flirting on the battlements today, and at dinner.” Felix’s face floated in his mind, eyes bright and mouth smiling wide. Felix and he had been friendly until now, but Carver had never gotten an expression like that from him. “I don’t want to watch him do that again, especially—“ He stopped himself before he actually said it out loud, but Bethany knew him better than that.  
  
“Oh,” she breathed. “I see.” She studied his face.  
  
How could she always see through him? Was he truly that transparent? He squirmed under her scrutiny. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” She narrowed her eyes. “I can see you scheming, sister, and just _don’t_.”  
  
She raised her arms in an innocent gesture. “What ever could you be talking about, brother?” A little smirk came over her face and Carver scowled. This was a bad sign. She took a step backward. “I’ll have a runner bring you something to eat. Go get ready for bed, and I’ll see you in the war room tomorrow morning.”  
  
“Bethy…” he groaned, knowing he had lost but still putting up one last resistance.  
  
“Goodnight, Carver,” she threw over her shoulder as she left his office. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Carver was on his guard. He spent the morning doing paperwork, endless bloody paperwork, until just before the meeting his sister called. He dressed in armor for the war room. He didn’t need it, but it gave him an illusion of protection from his sister’s scheming.  
  
Josephine and Leliana spoke quietly together when he arrived, and Garrett leaned against the massive table inspecting his fingernails. Carver took his customary spot and waited, watching his brother from the corner of his eye. He didn’t look particularly like he got laid last night, a self-satisfied expression Carver was unfortunately all too familiar with.   
  
Bethany and Felix entered arm-in-arm, and Carver felt his world shift. The blue and silver uniform always made Felix’s skin look brighter, giving the warm brown color a vibrancy that made Carver’s chest swell. Felix smiled as their eyes met, and Carver couldn’t help the answering grin that blossomed on his own face. That little flip in his belly returned, especially when he noticed how long it took for Felix to greet Garrett after.   
  
Carver’s eyes darted to Bethany, who had watched him since she entered with a mischievous smile, and Carver’s brow furrowed. That wasn’t good. He knew Bethany’s scheming face, having been on the receiving end far too often in their short lives, and this promised _something_.  
  
“Oh good, you’re all here,” Bethany began, and she dragged Felix to the other side of the table, placing him between Carver and Josephine, before taking her own spot at the head.  Her sunny smile made him glare. Her eyebrows raised in a “who, me?” look, and using some long perfected facial gestures, Carver conveyed his disbelief, anger and frustration at his sister. Garrett had described these silent conversations as “twin nonsense,” and he wasn’t far off.  
  
She completely ignored him and started with the first business of the meeting: the soldiers stuck in the Fallow Mire. Carver tried to focus on Inquisition matters, but he remained keenly aware of the man standing beside him, the heat emanating from his body and the unique smell of cloves and lyrium that Carver so distinctly associated with Felix.   
  
He remembered the first time he really noticed Felix, when Carver had tried to teach him Wicked Grace in the garden. They sat under the gazebo together, enjoying a particularly sunny day, and Carver had to lean over more than once to check Felix’s cards.   
  
“Not that one, Alexius, you should hold that. Look, with this you’ve got three serpents.” Carver pulled two cards from Felix’s hand and shuffled them around, grouping the like cards together.  
  
Felix sighed and sat forward in his chair. “Oh, but I thought this one was a dagger?” He blinked up at Carver, innocent confusion in his dark eyes, and Carver suddenly realized that only a few inches separated their faces. He felt like he had been punched in the chest, discovering the beauty marks on his cheeks and forehead, the blacks of his eyes glittering like chips of polished onyx in the soft afternoon sunlight, the bridge of his wide nose sprinkled with light freckles. His lips looked so soft, set in a small pout emphasizing the fullness and Carver wondered what they would taste like. Unexpected desire pooled in his gut, and Carver threw himself back into his own chair, breathing heavy, trying to get the sweet smell out of his nose and his brain.   
  
Felix threw his cards down, thankfully oblivious to Carver’s inner struggle of _this man is my friend_ and _I just want to take him here on this table in view of the Maker and everyone_ , and huffed out a breath. “Let me show you a Tevinter game, so I can be the one to win every match.” He grabbed Carver’s cards out of loose fingers, and began to shuffle the deck. An electric jolt shot through Carver’s body at the brief contact of skin to skin, and he squirmed in his seat while watching Felix’s deft fingers mix up the cards, now wondering what else those fingers could do.   
  
In the present, Bethany had to drag his attention back to official matters more than once. Each time, she rolled her eyes and glanced between Carver and Felix significantly, and Carver cursed her each time for making it more and more obvious to everyone in the room where his errant thoughts lay. After the third time, Josephine spoke up. “Commander, are you quite well? You look, I’m sorry to say, sweaty and uncomfortable.”  
  
Carver clenched his jaw and did not look at Felix. “I, uh. I have a bit of a headache. It’s nothing.”  
  
Felix turned to him with concern in his eyes. “Are you sure? Should we postpone the meeting until later?”  
  
Bethany sounded far more amused than worried. “Yes, brother, should we stop the meeting for you? I’m sure Felix would be happy to walk you back to your office.”   
  
Carver glared at her. “I’m fine, honestly. Let’s just get this over with.” She winked at him, Garrett shot suspicious glances between them, and Felix’s sympathy sent his belly twisting again. _Andraste's tits, what a mess_.   
  
 Bethany continued with matters in Crestwood, but Felix stayed close. “Really, let me know if you need a break,” he murmured. He stood close enough for Carver to feel the breath on his ear, and Carver swallowed through a sudden tightening in his throat.  
  
“Thanks,” he croaked, and turned his mind back to the meeting. He did not think about Felix’s hand resting on the table beside his own, or when he shifted his weight he brushed against Carver’s hip, or his shoulder bumping his arm every so often.   
  
When Bethany felt they discussed matters to her satisfaction, she announced the meeting over with a clap of her hands.   
  
Garrett slipped behind them to Felix’s side almost before Bethany even finished speaking, taking his elbow in hand. “Alexius, I was just heading down to the tavern for a drink, can I ask for your _stimulating_ company?”   
  
Carver stiffened as his brother’s question, and turned his back on the pair to take his assorted papers from the tabletop. Of course the man had to flaunt it in Carver’s bloody face, like he did with Peaches, and Merrill, and everyone else. He couldn’t keep it in his pants or in his room, he just had to make sure everyone in the vicinity knew he was about to get some. Rage simmered in his belly and he strode from the room without a backward glance.  
  
 He heard Felix call his name, but Carver just waved a hand behind him and kept walking, not needing to know anything more about their tryst.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver and Garrett have a talk

After lunch, Carver spent the rest of the afternoon sparring with a couple of Lieutenants and their recruits, working out his frustrations in the guise of training.   
  
The physical exertion kept his mind occupied, and he focused on the familiar movements rather than any unwelcome thoughts. Sweat poured down his face and neck, even in the chilly day, and he relished the satisfying burn in the muscles of his arms and back.   
  
When he sent the last recruit sprawling onto his backside, Cassandra shouted at him from where she watched. “Hawke!” His head jerked up and the stony look on her face made him clench his jaw. He holstered his greatsword onto his back and stalked over to her.   
  
“What?” he spat, and Cassandra’s brow came down. Carver swallowed, fearing he may have gone too far. He sighed. “Sorry, Cass. What’s up?”  
  
She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes. “What is your problem?” Her sharp words sent a pang of guilt through him, and he regretted letting his feelings overcome him during that day’s training.  
  
Carver shifted on his feet, and he wiped a hand down his face. “Nothing. Nothing’s a problem. Everything’s fine, I’m just showing…” he trailed off as he saw that the recruits had vanished, and his Lieutenants stood at attention, clearly not looking forward to dealing with him. Carver sighed again. “I guess training is over.”  
  
Cassandra continued to stare at him. “Is it the lyrium?”  
  
Carver flinched and looked away from her. “No, why does everyone keep asking me that?” He turned away to pick up the discarded weapons from the ground, and walked them back to the armory.   
  
Cassandra followed. “You have been irritable lately, and it’s affecting morale. You need to snap out of it. If you don’t want to tell me, I cannot force you, nor would I want to.”  
  
“It’s nothing. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just— whatever.” He left her in the armory, unwilling to continue this conversation with the Seeker. They had formed a tentative friendship since his recruitment in Kirkwall, but they certainly weren’t friends enough for him to spill his guts about his shitty love life to her.  
  
Carver’s mood was not improved when he found Garrett leaning on his desk, biting into an apple. “Baby brother, you’ve returned.”  
  
Carver scowled. “What are you doing here?” He unbuckled the clasps of his gloves and began the lengthy process of removing his armor.   
  
“What, can’t I come say hello to my favorite little brother? Is it a crime to come want to see how you are doing?”   
  
“What do you want, Garrett?” He released a long-suffering sigh. Garrett never came to just talk, he always wanted something. He wanted Carver to follow him into Darktown, or distract the Templars from the clinic, or act as a punching bag for when he felt overwhelmed by being the Champion. Carver loved his brother, but most of the time, he didn’t like him much.   
  
“You’ve been more hostile than usual, and I wanted to know why.”  
  
Carver finally turned away to place his chestplate on the armor stand, unable to hold his brother’s gaze any longer. The shame of pining over his brother’s new fling filled him with new anger. “Do you want a list?”  
  
Garrett barked out a laugh. “Andraste, no. That would take forever, knowing how you like to hold a grudge. Just very specifically: what has happened in the past few days to piss you off?” Garrett hesitated, which was so unlike the man who ran his mouth at every opportunity, charming or enraging everyone he met. His mouth opened like he was going to make another sarcastic comment, but he closed it again without his usual bluster.  
  
The concern in his voice gave Carver pause, and he thought for a moment before turning back to his brother. “I just—” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a telling gesture for his nervousness. “I know how you are with girls. Or, boys too, I guess.”  
  
Garrett was quiet, but Carver still couldn’t turn to look at him and continued talking towards the rack. “I saw you and Felix yesterday, on the battlements. I don’t… I just don’t want to see you use Felix and dump him, like you always do. He’s— I don’t want him to get hurt.”  
  
Garrett’s silence lasted longer than Carver expected, and when he looked back over his shoulder, Garrett’s brows were drawn together and his eyes intently focused on Carver. “You don’t want me to hurt Felix,” he said slowly, clearly overthinking Carver’s words in a way that Carver didn’t like.  
  
Carver shifted on his feet, uncomfortable with his brother’s level of scrutiny. “Yeah. He’s a good person, and he deserves more than a fling. He doesn’t know anyone here, and if you… y’know, use him and lose him, it’s gonna be shit for him. Him being Tevinter, and all.”   
  
Garrett blinked a few times. “Carv, are you sweet on him?”  
  
“What? No,” he blurted out, and turned away to hide the quick blush that rose over his face. “Course not. Why would you think that? Did Bethy talk to you? I just. Look, he’s my friend.”  
  
Garrett laughed again, the sound knowing and grating on Carver’s nerves. “Of course you are, otherwise you wouldn’t be so cross with me. It all makes sense now. Carver, if you had said something, I wouldn’t have flirted with him. What kind of brother do you think I am?”  
  
Carver folded his arms and set his mouth in a grim line. “You’ve done it before.”  
  
Garrett winced and looked shamefaced. The expression made Carver feel like he had taken a blow to the head. “Yes, well. I’m sorry about that. I know I’ve been a prick in the past, but… I think I’ve changed. We’ve both changed, haven’t we?”     
  
Carver nodded and dropped his arms to his sides again. “Yeah, we have.” Carver realized he really hadn’t been fair in the past few days. Ever since they reunited at Skyhold, Garrett had been considerate and helpful. Sarcastic and charming as ever, but not malicious like he used to be. “And if you’re serious about Felix, and he wants you too, I don’t— I won’t get in the way, but. I just.” Carver’s mouth went dry and he found he couldn’t finish his sentence. He gestured helplessly with his hands and stared at the floor.  
  
He heard Garrett push off the desk and watched his feet come into view, stopping in front of Carver. “Brother, if it’s important to you, I’ll stop.” Garrett’s heavy hand came to rest on his shoulder, and the weight somehow made him feel a bit lighter.  
  
Carver squirmed, unsure of how to handle tenderness or consideration from his brother. Carver loved him, and he knew Garrett loved him back, but they had been adversarial ever since he could remember. He knew how to act when verbally sparring or instigating a fight, but accepting kindness was beyond him.   
  
“Whatever, I don’t care, do what you want. Ponce.” He grunted, shoved Garrett’s arm away, and escaped up the ladder to his room. He heard Garrett laugh behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

The message from Bethany seemed urgent. A scout burst through his door, heaving for breath, and passed the note to him. Carver unfolded it with shaking hands.  
  
_C,_  
  
_Come to the garden now._  
  
_B._  
  
He stood from his chair without a thought and raced from the room, only taking a second to grab his sword from the rack. Was she in trouble? Had something happened? Did enemies breach Skyhold somehow? His thoughts raced through all the worst possible scenarios as he sped towards the garden. He hadn’t even taken the time to put a proper coat on, but barely felt the chill as he rushed across the walkway and entered the dim garden.  
  
Most inhabitants of Skyhold were at dinner in the hall or in the tavern, and the garden appeared deserted, still and quiet in the twilight of early evening. Mage lights illuminated the walkways with a calming blue aura, leading from the covered walkways across the open yard to the gazebo.  
  
Carver glanced around, assessing the area for threats or his sister, before acknowledging that no one was here. He only had a moment to consider this before a figure stepped out of the darkness and into the gazebo.  
  
Carver cursed under his breath as he recognized the person, suddenly again wishing he had worn something more flattering and not his basic armor and sword belt. He ran a hand through his hair as he made his way toward the gazebo, hoping it could help make him look less ragged and exhausted.  
  
Felix’s brow furrowed in confusion as he looked at a slip of paper in his hand, then around the garden. His eyes landed on Carver, and they lit up in recognition. “Carver! What are you doing here?”  
  
Carver took the two steps up into the gazebo and held up his own note. “Bethany sent me an urgent message. Let me guess, she called you here too?” Of course. He should have known. She had been too quiet today, not once mentioning Felix or his involvement with Garrett in front of Carver, when usually she wouldn’t be able to stop teasing or prodding for his _feelings_. This seemed exactly like the kind of scheme she would pull: send messages to both Carver and Felix to get them in a dark, romantic garden together.  
  
Felix shook his head. “Garrett sent me a note. I thought…”  
  
Carver felt the ground beneath him tilt and nausea filled his belly. _Maker_ , he was wrong in the worst possible way. It was the exact opposite of what he expected, and it hurt like a chest wound. Felix was supposed to meet Garrett out here for a romantic tryst, only to find Carver and disappointment. He gritted his teeth to keep his sharp words of resentment from tearing into Felix. “Right. Sorry that it’s only me. I’ll go before he gets here.”  
  
Felix took a step forward and grabbed Carver’s forearm. “No, wait. I didn’t want for you to leave. That’s not what I meant.”  
  
Carver waited for him to explain what he actually meant, waited for the rejection, but Felix didn’t say anything else. His hand burned where it touched Carver’s sleeve, and Carver felt the familiar swell of emotion in his chest that came whenever they spent time together, but it felt bitter and jaded.  
  
“If you’re waiting for Garrett, I’ll leave you to it. I don’t want to get in your way,” Carver said, trying to leave before he embarrassed himself any further, but Felix only tightened his grip.  
  
“No, please don’t go. I’d rather be here with you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he let go suddenly, as if realizing for the first time that they were still connected.  
  
Carver fought the swell taking him higher at Felix’s words. _Here with me?_ It was exactly what he wanted to hear, but that’s why it was dangerous. “I thought you and he were… y’know. A thing.” He squirmed, shifting his weight on his feet.  
  
Felix’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why would you think that?”  
  
Carver shrugged with one shoulder, half turning away to face the dark garden. “I saw you together on the battlements yesterday, and then at dinner…” He swallowed. “Seemed, y’know. _Familiar_.”  
  
“That’s just… we weren’t… Carver, you don’t think…” Felix fumbled his words, sounding as lost and confused as Carver felt. Carver had never heard Felix quite so flustered. He was always smooth and eloquent, able to talk for hours without stumbling over his words or inviting awkwardness, unlike Carver.  
  
Carver glanced at him from the corner of his eye, unable to truly meet his gaze. “I don’t think what? What am I supposed to think? Garrett was all over you, and it’s not news to me, I’ve seen him like this before. Anyone I liked, he would just swoop in and—“ Carver snapped his jaw shut as he realized what he said, heard his words get ahead of him. He huffed out a breath and crossed his arms. “It’s fine. You can be with Garrett, whatever. I don’t care.” The words felt like blades on his tongue, slicing into him deep and painful.  
  
Carver stared out into the darkness, the barely lit pathways and the garden casting shadows onto the cobblestones. The usual sounds of Skyhold at night filtered into his awareness: unintelligible voices from the tavern, guards shouting the watch and orders to each other, small animals rustling through the shrubbery, Felix’s even breaths from where he stood behind Carver.  Carver tried not to focus on this last sound, but every piece of him seemed attuned to the man.  
  
“Carver.” Felix’s voice did not startle him, but the gentle, pitying tone made him flinch. “I don’t think you understand.”  
  
“I understand _just fine_ ,” Carver spat. He certainly didn’t need the logistics of his brother’s sex life explained in any detail.  
  
“No, you don’t.” Felix stepped forward until he was at Carver’s shoulder. “It’s been hard, living here in the south. I stick close with Dorian or with the other Wardens because most Fereldans haven’t reacted well to having a Tevinter mage in their ranks. You’ve— your brother was nice to me. I miss flirting sometimes, and he seems, well, if not harmless, than at least good-natured and friendly.” The wistfulness in his voice, the nostalgia and the pain and the loneliness, made Carver turn his head. Felix wasn’t looking at him, his face drawn and hands fidgeting where they clasped together.  
  
Carver knew what it was like to be a stranger in a hostile city; Kirkwall wasn’t kind to Fereldan refugees, and he didn’t want Felix to ever feel that way. Their friendship began with that kind of comfort and companionship, but Carver couldn’t help his own stupid heart for developing feelings.  
  
“I thought, maybe you were like that too?” Felix kept his eyes averted, gazing out into the garden. “I like talking to you, joking and playing cards and spending time like we have been, but you’re not very… I don’t know what you want from me. Garrett makes it clear. He’s upfront about everything, and we’re not _friends_ exactly, but we have fun. I didn’t think that’s what you wanted. So, when he started flirting with me, I just…” Felix shrugged, and the defeated tilt to his shoulders sent a pang through Carver. “It’s nice, to know I’m wanted, even for just a little fling. I’m sorry that you think less of me for being with your brother but—“  
  
“Wait, no,” Carver interrupted. “I don’t think less of you for being with him. I couldn’t, ever think less of you for anything.”  
  
Felix tilted his head up to meet Carver’s eyes, and Carver saw the shy fear, but also a little spark of hope. “Then, I don’t understand. You’ve hardly looked at me, and you’re not exactly subtle when you’re pissed off.”  
  
Carver snorted, self-deprecating and humorless. “You’re not the first to tell me that.” Carver fidgeted. Subtle wasn’t his strong suit, and neither was confession of feelings. He took a deep breath and shifted his feet, unconsciously taking a defensive stance. “I don’t like seeing you with Garrett because I’m, well, I wanted to be the one to… y’know. Flirt with you, and see you look at me like that.”  
  
He swallowed and kept his eyes averted, waiting for Felix to say _Carver, I couldn’t see you like that because your brother is so much better_. Well, he didn’t actually expect Felix to say those words, but that would be the implication.  
  
Carver felt a warm hand slide along his wrist down to his clenched fist, soft and uncalloused as they pried his fingers apart, lacing with his. Carver looked down at their linked hands, Felix’s smooth brown skin against his own rough pale hand, and he stopped breathing for a moment. “Carver,” Felix started, and Carver braced himself. “Haven’t you noticed? I do look at you like that. I can’t _stop_ looking at you like that. Dorian says I’m giving him cavities with how obviously I’m sweet on you.” That prompted a snort from Carver, and then he squeezed Felix’s hand.  
  
“Really?” Carver asked in a small voice. His heart hammered in his chest, and his fingers and toes tingled in anticipation.  
  
Felix’s opposite hand rose to touch Carver’s cheek. He shivered at the contact, and let Felix turn his head, finally looking into his eyes. All the breath rushed from his lungs as he saw the expression, _that_ expression directed at him. Felix’s lips parted slightly, his eyes focused on Carver’s face with an intensity that made his heart stutter, and it was everything Carver had expected.  
  
The hand on his cheek tightened and pulled him down to Felix’s face until Carver’s eyes crossed and he closed them. Felix’s mouth was a whisper on his own, the barest of caresses that sent sparks rocketing through Carver like chain lightning. They brushed together for a few moments, Carver almost unable to believe this was truly happening.  
  
His free hand rose to grip the back of Felix’s neck, pulling him in closer, and Felix let out a breathy whimper. Felix’s lips opened and his tongue traced Carver’s lower lip. Carver’s hand tightened and he crushed their mouths and bodies together, needing to be closer, connected to this man who got under his skin and into his heart.  
  
Felix kissed him until they were both breathless and overeager, arms wrapped around each other and grinding themselves together. Carver broke the kiss to rest his forehead against Felix’s, unable to do much more than breathe him in. He felt giddy, like taking too much elfroot or drinking Isabela’s best rum, happy like he hadn’t been in years. Felix’s hands clutched his shoulders and Carver grounded himself in the touch.  
  
He opened his eyes to find Felix staring back at him. Carver couldn’t resist ducking in to press another kiss to his lips, which turned into one more, then three more, then Felix pushed him against a column of the gazebo to embrace him again.  
  
Bells announcing the late hour broke through their haze of affection, and Carver managed to set Felix an arms-length away from him. Felix’s hair was mussed, his lips swollen and red, his eyes still trained on Carver’s mouth. Carver shook his head to try to clear it a little. “Fee, we can’t do this _right here_.”  
  
Felix seemed to realize they were, even if alone, still in public. He nodded to himself and grabbed Carver’s hands, linking their fingers again. “So let’s go somewhere else.”  
  
A goofy smile covered Carver’s face. “I have an idea.”  
  
Ten minutes later, they stood on the battlements near Carver’s office, Felix pressed into the cold stone and Carver leaning into his body. They stood together, trading kisses and over the clothes touching until a breathy sigh and a giggle from the stairs interrupted them.  
  
Carver looked over his shoulder to see two pairs of eyes peeking over the battlement. Bethany waved before Garrett pulled her away back down the steps, whistling loudly to announce their departure. Carver rolled his eyes and turned back to Felix, whose cheeks were now rosy, adorably embarrassed by the voyeurs. He should have known better than to think Bethany was above eavesdropping, and briefly wondered how long they stood there, before Felix’s lips and tongue and hands distracted him once again.


End file.
